


Short Shorts

by domo (aroceu)



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-30
Updated: 2010-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/domo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle wears short shorts, and everyone likes them. Especially Stan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short Shorts

"Kahl, stop wearing those short shorts. They make you look like a fag."

 

These were the words that got me to look up from my homework as the four of us—as usual—were sitting at my house. Well, specifically my kitchen table. Cartman was busy eating everything in sight, aka the food I didn't give him from my own house. Kenny and I were doing homework on my laptop and my dad's, which I lent him—though I was pretty sure Kenny was only looking through my dad's porn sites. Kyle was at my refrigerator getting a drink when Cartman suddenly said this, and turned around and blushed.

"These aren't short shorts, Cartman," he tried to protest, though he glanced down at his ass as well. "They're just the shorts that the dudes on the basketball team wear."

"Yeah, well everyone on the basketball team is a fuckin' fag too," Cartman said through a spoonful of ice cream.

"Shut up fatass, no one cares about your opinion," Kenny suddenly said, looking up from my dad's computer screen. He glanced around to Kyle. "Those shorts are fine, Kyle, really."

"Really?" Kyle asked, looking at him with an expression of disbelief on his face.

Kenny laughed. " _Fuck_  no! Those really  _are_  short shorts. But they're the type of shorts basketball players wear, and you're a basketball player, so I guess it's all right, right?" He smirked. "Plus, they make your ass look pretty fine."

"Kinny, you're a fag too," Cartman murmured through his food.

"Don't talk with your mouth open, lard," Kenny shot back.

Kyle gave up on the two and turned to me. "Stan? What do you think?"

"Huh? What?" I had been too busy staring at Kyle to take my eyes off of him, but when he said my name, I quickly glanced up to his eyes—because I hadn't been looking at them earlier. But, er. I wasn't staring at his ass before that. No. I swear, I wasn't.

Kyle sighed, seemingly annoyed that I hadn't been paying attention. "What do you think? Are my shorts too short?"

"They're…" I looked back at his shorts again. They reached a little past his thighs, but were nowhere near his kneecaps. His pale thighs were visible and went up to his rounded ass, which curved nicely behind him.

I swallowed a little. "Nope. They're perfect length."

"What do you mean by that?" Kyle looked at me fearfully. " _You_  don't think they're too short? They don't make me look like a fag?"

"Honestly Kyle, I don't see what's wrong with 'looking like a fag' with an ass  _that_  fine," Kenny interjected from the side. "Remember what all the girls said in elementary school? They couldn't stop talking about your ass, dude!"

"But I don't know if that's a good thing!" Kyle protested.

"It means you're a fag. Fuckin' Jew," Cartman remarked, going into my ice cream jar for another spoonful of ice cream.

"Shut up fatass," Kyle growled to him. Then he turned to me. "Well, Stan?"

"I…" I looked at his shorts a little longer, and then looked him in the eye.

"Your shorts are perfectly fine."

\--

"Yeah! Slam dunk it!"

Butters jumped up and down from beside me as we watched the basketball game. (Kenny had died again, and Cartman had detention. Sometimes things never get old.) Kyle had the ball right now, and he turned and gave me and Butters a thumbs-up, before going over to the other side of the court and slamming the ball into the hoop. Butters and I, along with everyone else, cheered, before sitting back down as halftime started and Kyle ran over to us in the bleachers to talk to us.

"Did you guys see that? Wasn't that awesome?" Kyle was beaming as he chattered on excitedly. "That was the first time I've ever slam dunked anything!"

"That was so cool, Kyle!" Butters jittered excitedly. "Man, I wish I was as an awesome basketball player as you!"

"I know." Kyle wiped his forehead not-so modestly and glanced to me.

"Good job, dude," I grinned, though my gaze had dropped a little to his basketball shorts. They were the same ones he had been wearing a few days ago at my house, the same ones as everyone else on the basketball team was wearing. But for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of them.

I struggled to look back up, and then added, "But I'm sure you'll slam dunk plenty of things in your basketball career."

"I hope so," Kyle said, beaming as he turned around to look at the opposing team who was busy practicing on the court during the break.

We sat there in silence for a while, and my ears suddenly caught ahold of a conversation going on behind us as we waited for halftime to be over. A bunch of girls in the stands a little ways from us were chattering, and I heard Kyle's name come out from one of their mouths.

"Oh my god, isn't he so cute?" said one of the girls. "With his curly red hair, his freckles…"

"He's a year older than us too! A sophomore! And he's already so amazing on the basketball team," swooned another girl.

"And those  _shorts_! He looks so  _fine_  in them," said a third girl.

"Mm, that ass," said the first girl.

"What I would give to tap that ass," giggled the second girl. "And I'm not even a gay guy!"

"Ohmigod! What if he was gay?" exclaimed the third.

"That would just make him so much better," chuckled the first.

I turned around to glower at them for a bit, and then turned back around to Kyle just as the bell signaling the end of halftime rang. "Good luck, dude," I said, patting him on the back as he started heading back out to court.

He turned to me and grinned. "I will, Stan, don't worry!" Kyle called back, and then ran off.

All the while as he left, I couldn't remove my eyes from his ass.

\--

The next basketball game, I had Kenny and Cartman with me, along with Butters again. All four of us were cheering—actually, that was a lie. Butters, Kenny and I were cheering while Cartman sat down in his seat and stared out to the court boredly, occasionally muttering things like, "Jews aren't supposed to play basketball. What the fuck is this," but Butters, Kenny and I just ignored him.

When Kyle shot the ball through the hoop again, we cheered and jumped up and down in our seats. I still couldn't take my eyes off of his, ahem, backside as he ran down again, but it was my own guilty pleasure. No one else knew what I was paying attention while he played ball, and that was fine with me.

A score from the opposing team snapped me out of my thoughts, as I heard a collective boo. I boo'd with them, and as everyone ran back again, Kenny remarked, "Damn, Kyle's ass."

"What about it?" Butters asked Kenny, confused.

I rolled my eyes and tried not to care about what Kenny was saying. "Oh, not this again," I said to myself.

Butters turned to me. "Stan, what's he talking about?"

"Butters, look." Kenny took Butters' arm to get his attention, and then pointed out onto the court. "You see Kyle?"

"Yeah?" Butters turned his head a little as if he could see Kyle better like that.

Kenny moved his finger lower. "You see Kyle's butt?"

"Yeah?" Butters' gaze shifted to Kyle's backside.

"What does looking at Kyle's butt do to you?" Kenny asked Butters.

"It… It…" Butters looked at Kyle's ass for a long time. "It makes me feel all tingly inside."

"Does it make you want to put your dick into it?" Kenny said with a mischievous grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes at this and pointedly looked away, while Cartman snarled under his breath, "You're such a fucking fag, Kinny."

"You mean my wiener?" Butters said, ignoring the both of us. "Yeah!"

"Exactly," Kenny said with a smirk, turning and folding his arms.

"Dude, you are  _so fucking gay_!" Cartman spat, crinkling his nose at Butters' reaction. I wasn't quite sure if he was talking to Kenny or Butters, but either one would have worked.

Kenny just turned to Cartman and smirked. "Bi, actually," he said, and then leaned over and kissed Butters on the cheek before turning his attention back to the basketball game. Butters blushed, and I took it that I should probably look back to the basketball game as well.

But when I looked back out to court, my eyes went immediately for Kyle's ass. And I had to admit, whatever Butters and Kenny wanted to do to that ass, I kind of wanted to do it too.

\--

"That was a good game, wasn't it? Seventy-two to sixty-nine." Kyle sighed happily as he put his bag on the kitchen table.

Behind us, Ike giggled while going upstairs. "Sixty-nine."

"You're so mature, Ike," Kyle called up to him. Then he turned to me while the rest of his family came into his house. "Hey dude, are you sleeping over?"

"Of course," I replied with a grin, resting my hands on the table while he started looking through pantries and the refrigerator for something to eat. "When do I ever not sleep over?"

"True," Kyle said back with a smile. He glanced to the clock next to the microwave. "Eleven o'clock." He stared at it for a moment. "Eh, I guess I can eat something right now."

"You can eat anything any time, Kyle," I said, staring while he turned back around and stood on his tip-toe to get something from out of his pantry. "You know. Build those muscles, make those abs, fill out your ass in those short shorts."

"Wait, what?" Kyle turned around with a bag of chips in his hands, and stared at me.

I stared at him back. "What? What did I say?"

"You said my shorts… You called them short shorts," he said to me.

I shrugged. "So?"

"But—I thought—" Kyle spluttered, exasperated. "You said that they were fine! You said that they weren't short shorts a few weeks ago!"

"Oh—yeah that!" I hastily replied. "I mean—uh—shorts are supposed to be short, right?"

"Well yes, but I'm not supposed to wear  _short_  shorts!" Kyle exclaimed. "You know I had a choice between longer shorts and short shorts, right? And I picked short shorts so I wouldn't sweat as much, but if they were  _too_  short, I wouldn't have picked them! And I thought they were fine, until Cartman said that they were too short, and then Kenny!"

"What are you talking about, Kyle?" I said, though my eyes were much more focused on his… ahem, thighs.

"I mean, I wouldn't have worn  _short_  shorts if I had known they were short shorts!" Kyle exclaimed. "Did you notice that I'm the only guy on the team who's actually wearing them?"

Blinking and actually hearing these words, I looked up at Kyle. "No."

"Well I am! And now you're saying my shorts are too short too!" Kyle flung his hands down. "Why, Stan? Why did you tell me that my shorts were fine when they completely  _aren't_? Why?"

Now I wasn't about to say, "Oh, because I really love seeing your ass in them," no matter how much it was true. Plus, I really needed to move my gaze from somewhere else instead of just staring at Kyle's damn fine legs all the time, the way they stretched and flexed when he walked, when he jumped on the basketball court, the way his shorts flowed against his legs—shut up, inner Stan! Shut up!

"Uh… because… I think you look better in them?" I offered, which was as close to the truth as I could get without sounding like a complete fag.

But Kyle cocked his head and gave me a look. "Really, Stan? You expect me to believe that bullshit?"

"It's not bullshit, it's true!" I tried to object. "You really  _do_  look good in those shorts, Kyle!"

"Oh really? What part of me looks good in them, huh? My calves? My thighs? My knees? My ass?" Kyle touched each part of his body he indicated as he spoke and gave me a sarcastic look. "Don't expect me to believe that shit, Stan—"

"No, really, it's true!" I said quickly. "Your calves, thighs, legs, ass—they all look good in those shorts."

A silence fell between us.

Then Kyle said, "You know, that really  _does_  make you sound like a fag, Stan."

"I… I know," I sighed, glancing down. "Okay, Kyle. You want to know the truth? It's mostly because…" I blushed before saying exactly what I thought. "… because I wanted to see your ass in them. Because Kenny and all those other girls are right, Kyle. You  _do_  have a nice ass."

"I… Um…" Kyle suppressed his shock after my confession, shifting his foot on the ground. "Thanks."

It was quiet once again. But then Kyle broke it, again, as he said, while I still didn't look up,

"I guess… I guess this means that you really  _are_  a fag."

"I guess," I responded.

Kyle looked up at me. "And you have a crush on me? If that's what liking my ass means."

"Um… I suppose." I looked up at Kyle. "I didn't realize until recently, okay? I don't want to ruin our super best friendship or anything."

"Of course not," Kyle murmured.

We stood there in awkward silence for a while. Kyle was still holding the bag of chips, and I was still standing in his kitchen table, and I'm pretty sure the both of us were wondering what the hell to do. But then I decided that you know what, fuck this, if I wanted that ass, I wanted the closest thing I could have to it. So I got up from my seat, and went over to Kyle, and before he could start some form of reaction, I leaned in and kissed him.

His response was as automatic as… well, anything automatic. Once our lips met, I only moved my mouth against his for about a few seconds when I felt him pressing back, and then as his arm snaked around my neck and his body curved into mine, his tongue managed to slip through his lips and then my own. It glided around my teeth, exploring every corner of my mouth, and I just kissed back even more hungrily and eagerly before. My hands went around his waist, and hovered and curved around that ass I had been admiring for weeks now, and I couldn't help but grin into his mouth as I did so.

But then something apparently suddenly registered into his brain, and he pulled back from me. Kyle touched his lips, looked up at me, astounded at what he had just done.

"I… Stan, I really didn't mean… I mean, I  _did_ …" he stuttered.

"Have you liked me for a while, or did you just realize this too?" I asked him, cutting him off and pretty surprised at the kiss as well.

"I… I don't know…" Kyle glanced down to his shoes, for the first time in his life confused. "I mean, I… I always thought there was something… but I didn't think…" He continued staring down, trying to sort out his thoughts and muttering to himself. I heard the word "gay" slip past his lips.

"So… you do like me back?" I said to him, moving closer a little. "The same way I like you?"

"I… Yes." Kyle looked up at me, finally. "I just… I guess I didn't know, until…"

"Until I kissed you," I finished for him.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah."

He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, but I just pulled him into an embrace and kissed him on the lips comfortably, smiling down at him. "Well don't worry," I said. "I didn't find out until you started wearing those short shorts."

"Then I guess I should wear them more to see what else you can find out about me," Kyle teased, kissing me back.

I grinned. "I guess you should."


End file.
